


The Charmer and the Rebel

by L_C_Knight



Series: The League of Shorter fics [3]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, Rakan can't be bothered to give a flying fuck, Rakan is a flirt, Xayah is internally crushing on Rakan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 12:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_C_Knight/pseuds/L_C_Knight
Summary: My take on Rakan and Xayah's meeting.





	The Charmer and the Rebel

The girl sat in the back of the bar, nursing a beer. The road had been long and hard, and she needed a drink and entertainment. Alas, this bar was not currently performing; there was a stage, but it was empty. There wasn’t even music, the magical music or performed music. The girl felt lonely without it. Like something was missing from her life. The music had grown fainter the farther she’d gone into human territory. Now, she was too far into human lands, and needed a way out. A way home. 

As the girl planned a way back to the Vastayan lands. She was so lost in her musings that she didn’t notice the music begin. Not the human music of course, but a small piece of the music from the Vastayan lands. The people in the crowd didn’t notice the music either, but no one would’ve expected them to, they were human after all. The girl also did not notice the single golden feather that drifted down in front of the barkeep. The barkeep however, knew that it meant her star performer was coming. 

The girl was pulled from her planing by a shout of, “Okay, everyone, I’m here, I’m here. The party starts now!” She looked up to see a beautiful Vastayan man standing on the stage, a cloak of golden feathers slung from his shoulder. The girl was mesmerized, to say the least. The feather cloak caught her attention first, but his eyes were the next thing that caught her attention. Blue, a beautiful blue. They reminded her of the sea, clear, blue, and guileless. At least, at first glance they were. As she studied his eyes, they seemed less and less guileless. But the girl’s eyes began to stray from his face, down to his chest. It couldn’t have been smoother is it’d been waxed. The dancer’s muscles were also a sight to behold, rippling with every motion. 

The girl forced herself to look away, she was trying to escape no ogle attractive dancers in bars. Though maybe she could just take him to- she cut that though off right then and there, now was not the time, nor was here the place. But how she wished it was. The girl shook herself once more, in an attempt to rid her mind of the dancer and get back to planning her escape. That plan worked quite well, until the crowd began chanting “Rakan!” over and over. _So, that was his name_ , the girl thought, _Rakan_. It certainly sounded fitting, as he twirled across the stage. As she watched, he caught sight of her, flashing her a wink. His smile made her want to melt into a puddle of goo, but she forced her face to stay blank as she rolled her eyes at Rakan’s antics. She didn’t have time to get distracted by random dancers. 

After a while, the girl stood and left, leaving the payment for her beer on her table. Everyone was watching Rakan when she left, but as she slid out the door, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Rakan’s eyes, if she had to guess. She didn’t look back at Rakan. No matter how much she wanted to. Outside the bar it was raining, or more correctly, it was drizzling. Not hard enough to be called a rain, but not light enough to be called a mist. The cool, wetness was welcome as the girl walked down the street, towards the edge of town. If she was not mistaken, and the girl rarely was, through those woods would bring her back to Vastaya lands. It would be a fortnight before she reached home again, but she’d get there. 

As the girl walked, the dancer, Rakan, made his way back into her head, entirely unbidden of course. The girl couldn’t help but wonder what kind of companion he made. Was he the quiet type, someone who’d only speak every now and then. Somehow the girl doubted that Rakan would be quiet. More than likely, Rakan would be non-stop flirting, making bad jokes, and singing. The girl, who was usually a loner, couldn’t really bring herself to mind the thought, especially if that bare-chested number was his usual outfit. The girl really wouldn’t mind that.

The girl violently shook her head, almost dislodging her hood, in an attempt to get Rakan out of her head, she shouldn’t be so fixated on him, but she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Like a moth to the flame; she wanted to get close, regardless of the consequences. What truly worried the girl was that she couldn’t put a finger on where her attraction to this dancer stemmed from. Perhaps she should go back, sleep with him, then leave. One night stands were not things that the girl was overly familiar with, but she’d had her share. 

As she walked, still in a debate over whether or not to go back and just fuck Rakan, a branch snapped, jerking her from her reverie. In her thoughts she’d become inattentive to her surroundings. Now, she observed. There were six men, one more than she knew she could fight alone. Four of them were armed with swords, not fancy ones, just simple blades favored by Noxian foot soldiers. Crude, but effective. The other two were armed with bows. By the way they held the bows, they knew how to use them. The girl was in for one hell of a fight. She settled into a fighting stance; knees bent, arms protecting her chest, three quills in each hand, and feet planted a little more than shoulder width apart. 

As though by some unspoken signal the four men with swords charged her, issuing battle cries, lusting for blood and gold. She knew their types. Gods knew she’d killed enough of them. She flung out her right hand, letting the quills fly. The man was dead before he hit the ground. The girl whirled to face another, who’d raise his sword to strike. Three quills sliced clean through him, embedding themselves in the ground behind him. The girl cursed as a sword missed her by a fraction of an inch. She’d forgotten about the others. Now the archers had drawn their arrows and taken their aim. 

A semi-familiar voice interrupted the archers from shooting her… momentarily. “My fellow travelers,” the voice, clearly male, boomed, “Witness my majestic epicness! Unless I get killed… but that’s unlikely.” The archers shook their heads and loosed their arrows, as the swordsmen swung. A flash of gold, a tinge of peacock feather green, and the swordsmen were up in the air, until gravity took hold of them. The girl internally winced as they hit the ground, that could not have felt good. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the arrows flying towards her, too late. Her mysterious savior was too far away. Until… he was in front of her? A shield of golden light, that looked like a bubble, appeared around her, stopping the arrows from impacting. 

She looked up to see the grinning face of Rakan. Even though now was not the time to get distracted by this fool, she couldn’t help but want to just stare at him. He waggled his eyebrows when he noticed her brief stare, “See somethin’ ya like?” He asked, flirtatiousness dripping for his voice. 

The girl let out a very unladylike snort, “You wish, peacock.” Rakan somehow managed to look both affronted and amused at the same time. That looked truly hilarious. He had his hand on his chest, and his mouth open as though in shock, but everything else just screamed that he was trying to stifle his mirth. This whole interaction took less than a second. 

The girl lunged forward and put three quills into the chest of each archer, killing them. She turned to Rakan, “Thank you for the assistance, Rakan, but you are not needed.” Without waiting for a reply the girl turned and left. 

“Wait!” Rakan called from behind her. He caught her wrist, “Wait. Please. You know my name, yet I don’t know yours. So please, at least allow me the honor of knowing who I saved.” 

The girl decided that she could at least give her name to Rakan, after all he was a Vastaya and he’d saved her. She owed him this at least. “Xayah. My name is Xayah.” 

Rakan appeared to mull that over for a moment, before the said her name, as though testing it out. Suddenly he grinned, “Well, Xayah, I do believe that I shall be accompanying you, on whatever journey you’ve undertaken.” 

“No.” Said Xayah, before turning and leaving.

“That’s all well and good, Xayah, but I am now out of a job. So I think that I shall be accompanying you.”

Xayah rolled her eyes, what had she done to deserve this shit, but she allowed it anyways. Eye candy, was her reasoning. Though, even to herself, that sounded false. As they traveled, Rakan constantly talked, flirted, joked or sang. All the while, Xayah put up an annoyed facade, but really every time Rakan smiled she felt like melting. Not that she’d ever let him know that. Eventually they made it back to the Vastaya lands, and once there Xayah expected Rakan to leave, but he didn’t. He stayed beside her. Never faltering.


End file.
